all we are is everything that's right
by betweentheraindrops
Summary: Ryan/Marissa. Future-verse. "This place, uh, isn't the same without you."


A/N: Takes place six months after 3x25, minding the end scene because it doesn't exist. Pretty sure I started this around Christmas and that's why it has that theme. I can't with the idea of RM at Christmas(/Chrismukkah), it's so great. I kept some things vague but I feel like they're clear going by their characters. This is merely a drabble, but the Marissa-going-to-Greece 'verse is one no one ever really writes and it's been my favorite to think about.

Please review!

We won't say our goodbyes

You know it's better that way

We won't break, we won't die

It's just a moment of change

_- All We Are, OneRepublic_

..

**christmas eve. 2006.**

The second he sees her walk through the airport at baggage claim, hair up in a thoughtless ponytail, passport and paperwork in her hand, her face devoid of makeup, looking every bit as beautiful and _his_ as she ever has, he's gone. It's a thought often running through his head. Somehow, whenever he sees her, it seems to intensify. He doesn't mean for it to happen. Just as he's pretty sure she doesn't try to be it for him. She just is. They're stuck.

It's been six months since she left. Six months of late night phone calls and weekly emails. Months of getting the timezones right. Sometimes vague ideas about their future, together and apart. Random musings of someday.

When she catches his eye, her entire being lights up. She runs as fast as she can through a milieu of people and he reaches her in the middle, arms going around her, her hair in his face, chapstick going to the corner of his mouth. He doesn't care what they look like because it's her and he hasn't held her this close in so long. He half expects some epic instrumental to play in the background, but then he stops thinking like Seth and looks down at the girl in his arms, the one looking right up at him.

"Who are you?" he asks with a side smile, his eyes bright.

Marissa chuckles and goes to kiss his cheek and the side of his mouth, saying with peppermint breath, "Whoever you want me to be."

..

Dinner with the Cohens seems tradition now. It's Marissa's homecoming and Seth has Chrismukkah festivities and everyone's a family and it's what Ryan's always wanted.

Kirsten suggests they say grace and Seth makes an offensive joke about how they never really pay mind to her lax Christian faith and she glares at him until he outstretches his hand to Summer and Ryan, who are on either side of him. Ryan holds his out to Marissa and she takes it with a smile, her breath hitching when his thumb slides over her knuckles.

They thank God for being there as a family, unscathed, together again, and Marissa blushes when Sandy adds in that he's thankful she's home. Ryan holds her hand a little longer than he should after the blessing and lets go of it as soon as he realizes. Both Ryan and Marissa pretend throughout dinner that every single person at that table doesn't notice whatever's still between them.

But they steal glances at each other and she smiles when she passes him the macaroni and cheese. He smirks and tells her, "My favorite."

..

At eleven o'clock, they're dancing underneath the Newport stars outside of the Cohen house.

It's cheesy, but everyone else is mostly drunk and Julie turns on the Bose stereo system and grabs Neil from his seat to dance. Kirsten and Sandy join, followed by Summer and Seth, bickering about something no one else cares about. Marissa sways with her dad until Ryan comes up to both of them.

She blinks and has visions of Ryan in a suit with a tail, extending his hand to her as she wore a hideously cliché white dress. Cotillion was three and a half years ago and it still feels like yesterday.

She grabs his hand after her father gives her an amused look and maybe he was thinking of cotillion too. Ryan's hand go to her waist and the other goes to hold hers. Marissa puts a hand on his shoulder. She moves her head to get her hair off her shoulders.

"You look, um," he says, lips chapped. It doesn't help that his eyes keep looking at her lips either.

She smiles, saving him, "Thanks."

He spins Marissa around awkwardly and she laughs, moving her arms. Her hands sit at the back of his neck, his on her waist. "This place, uh, isn't the same without you."

She smiles genuinely, laughing a little. "Without my drama? Oh, how did they even survive this long?"

Ryan laughs along with her, their shared laughter eventually simmering and whatever's between them becoming serious again. His face hardens as he remembers what he needed to ask her. "How long are you staying?"

Marissa reacts, shocked at his bluntness, eyes darting down as she feels his boring into her. She mutters, "I don't know."

Ryan lets out a sound from the back of his throat and she looks up to see him frowning.

"What?"

"You don't know?"

"No. I mean, I'm not sure how long they'll- how long- if I even want to-"

He moves his hand from her hip to her other hand, pulling her away from the patio and into the kitchen, hopefully not looking too obvious. He doesn't want to ruin anyone's night by being mad, but she could, you know, at least let him know some things.

Once he's got her in the kitchen, he lets her hand go, ignoring the briefly disappointed look on her face. "Are you staying for a week? Are you _staying _staying? I just need something here."

Marissa bites her lip and her eyebrows crease. "Why's it so important? I'm here right now." She tries to lighten the mood by smiling again and placing her hand on his lapel.

He steps away from her, ignoring that look again, looking at her with a look she's always hated. Really, she should know by now what he means. "Yeah, for now."

She frowns and crosses her arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're here right now. Who's to say you won't be tomorrow? I can't-"

"You can't what? You can't do _this_?" She uses air quotes, the words coming out easily. She's heard him say that excuse before. They always say everything without saying anything at all.

He closes his eyes and chuckles silently to himself because he shouldn't be surprised that she's being difficult. "What's this?"

"Nothing, I guess," Marissa says rushed, annoyed. She was happy tonight. She hates him a little for ruining it.

Ryan thinks he shouldn't be surprised that they're fighting. That's what they do.

He also shouldn't be surprised when she walks away from him and into the poolhouse where her luggage is, closing the door harshly, equally afraid of confrontation as he is.

..

**christmas day. 2006.**

It's four-thirty when he finally decides that he can't take sleeping on the couch any longer. He gets up and walks into the kitchen, prepared to make himself coffee and maybe catch _Home Alone_ playing on a cable channel, his sock-covered feet on the coffee table, solitude comforting him.

But upon entering the kitchen, he sees steam coming out of the coffee maker in the corner and wonders who's up.

He walks outside only to find her sitting by the pool, feet dipped in the water, her pj pants rolled up to her knees. He smiles. She can be so simplistic, so raw and vulnerable. That's the girl he fell in love with. (But he loves all of her, so it doesn't even matter.)

Marissa hears footsteps walking behind her and she's ready to tell Seth to fuck off and let her think, but she knows those footsteps and she wants to smack herself for thinking the universe could've done anything else for her. Of course it's _him_.

"Hey."

"Hi," she answers. She doesn't turn around to look at him. He'll have to walk to her so she can see him. She sips her coffee patiently.

Ryan walks around the pool and she bites back a smile at his pajamas. He's always been adorable after waking up, wrinkled shirt and comfy pants, his bed head just making her want him. But he doesn't need to know any of that now.

He looks at her and he smirks. "You're wearing my shirt."

Marissa reacts, clutching her coffee mug in her hands. "I am not."

"You are."

"No, this was in my luggage," she says, as if any of this matters. She looks down at her ratty Death Cab t-shirt loosely hanging off her.

"Remember that Death Cab concert in L.A.?" he asks, picking up the net on the other side and dipping it in the pool.

Marissa's eyes look to the water as if she's trying to remember. Then she does. "You- it was too small."

"I kept it just 'cause but every time you were sleeping over, you'd-" he stops, realizing he was reliving the memory out loud.

She finishes the thought for him, "Wear it, steal it, return it later, and repeat everything again."

Ryan nods and looks at her when he thinks she isn't looking, not a rarity between them. He wonders what she's doing up, knowing from experience that she's not an early person, usually getting up around eight. But then he remembers she's on Greece time, so he decides to let it go. His mind returns to the times she would spend the night in the poolhouse with him. Kirsten and Sandy weren't stupid; they knew Marissa slept over a lot. They had the talk with Ryan and it was awkward as hell, but usually they were cool with the idea because they loved the girl like a daughter.

"Your bag's still in the closet," he says, startling her out of her thoughts as well as his own.

She blinks and opens her mouth, looking back to the poolhouse and him, remembering. "Oh, thanks." She decides to be a bitch for the hell of it. "Did Sadie use anything from there?"

Ryan looks up from the beaming blue water to her darker, navy eyes. He sighs and sets the net back on the ground. "What? No."

Marissa rolls her eyes and mutters _right_ before saying simply, "Okay."

"Don't, don't do that."

"What?"

"Bring up stuff like that."

"Like what, the girl you fucked in there?" She won't tell him that she couldn't sleep on the bed, too many memories both good and bad. Ryan winces. "Johnny's cousin, the girl who clearly had eyes for you ever since she got here. The girl that you were," she sets her mug on the ground to use air quotes "helping."

Ryan sighs, exasperated. What the hell is up with her? Seriously. "Really? We're going there?"

She shrugs.

"Okay, how's Volchok? Has he called you up since you dumped his ass? Classy choice, by the way." He stops and looks at her. She's not fazed. He takes a breath and decides to sit down across the pool from her. "Why him? Why not a nice guy? You're so much better than that and I hated- you _knew_ that you were. You knew-"

"Are we being honest here or something? I don't want to hear how much you hated Kevin or how much you hated me being with him. Okay, because it doesn't even amount to how much I hated you and what's-her-face."

"Sadie," he tells her and adds, "And I doubt it."

Marissa snorts and shakes her head. "No."

They sit there for a while, staring at the water, stealing glances at each other when they think the other isn't looking. She calms down when she looks at water, he knows this. She used to tell him about the beauty of water and what happens with ripples and tides and how one little drop affects everything else. He smiles at it, placing his finger on the unstable surface, watching it move. Marissa looks up at him and she wants so badly to be mad at him. But it's Ryan across the pool. It's Ryan. She can be mad at him all she wants but she'll always love him more than that.

She heaves a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry about bringing her up. I know it's in the past- I just-"

"I know," he says, and it's like he knows her emotions so well. He knows when she's being rash for no reason and when it doesn't mean anything. Ryan returns the apology with his eyes and Marissa smiles a little in acknowledgement. "And it technically is your shirt, so."

She smiles wide and gives him a pointed look. "I know. You gave it to me."

Ryan purses his lips after he smiles, gets up from where he's sitting and walks over to her, sitting next to her by the pool, keeping his feet above the water as he rolls up his pant legs to his knees.

"Don't splash me this time," she says, light.

His eyes peer at her like he's remembering something and she almost hopes he doesn't. "We had our first date here."

Marissa pretends as if her heart isn't beating so fast. "Yeah." They stay silent, reliving that night over three years ago. Has it really been over three years? It doesn't seem as if that much time has passed. She dips her leg further into the water, finding it colder. "Don't tell Kirsten, but my mac and cheese is better than hers."

He laughs out loud, his hand moving to her knee. "Don't tell Kirsten, but I totally agree."

Marissa chuckles and holds her coffee mug out to him, which he gratefully accepts. He tips the coffee into his mouth, finishes her mug, and sets it down next to them.

Ryan turns toward her a little, wants so badly to move some strands of hair from her face so it's tucked behind her ear, but he stops himself. Instead, he tells her, "I'm sorry too."

"For what?" She cautiously looks at him from her curtain of hair. It's darker than it was since she left town. He notices.

"For last night. I ruined a pretty great night for you. I know you love Christmas Eve and I shouldn't've been asking you-"

"No," she stops him. "Don't apologize for that." She turns toward him so he understands completely. "Please don't feel sorry about that, okay. I'm the one who just- yeah, just don't."

He nods numbly, because sometimes he wonders if she says stuff beneath her words, like if she's telling him not to ask again. Because he still wants to know.

"Why?"

He's startled. "Hmm?"

"Why do you want to have a definite answer?" she asks carefully.

Ryan looks down at the ripples his feet make in the water. He doesn't really think about what he says, just knows that he had to get up this morning because the cushions were uncomfortable and his head kept replaying their previous conversation. "Because I can't take another six months of this." He gestures between them. "Not knowing stuff... wanting to- only talking on the phone." He stops before he says too much. He won't tell her it pains him sometimes, being without her.

She softens a little, turns toward him like he is with her. "I still can't." She continues before he can jump in. "Me staying is dependent on a lot of things."

"Like what?" he asks her, and the complete hope and urgency in his eyes remind her, among so much more, that she loves him. "What can I do?"

Marissa puts her hand on his arm, keeping her eyes on her hand moving up and down, like the time in the poolhouse when she said she wanted him and he gave her this look of something she could never quite define. It was forgiveness and it was love, all that she knew, but there was more. It's like she'd done something right, like he really believed her when she said all she wanted was him. She needs him to believe her, or believe in her. That line is always so blurry between them.

When he kisses her, she lets out a sound from the back of her throat. His hand comes to caress her cheek and her hand is on his upper arm, steadying him. She can feel his triceps, and she whimpers, his lips warm on hers, and she's content with the idea that they could be doing this forever.

She takes his face in her hands and leans back, the concrete cold against her back and the sliver of skin at her waist just above her pj pants. He hovers over her for a second as they gather their breath, the only sounds around being the birds chirping and the Pacific Ocean in the deep distance crashing. Ryan settles himself over her there, making sure not all of his weight is on her. When he looks down at her again, she's smiling. It's a look that fits her so well. When Marissa smiles, her entire body lights up. Her face glows and her lips spread wide, eyes sometimes closed, cheeks rosy and high.

Ryan blinks at her before leaning down slightly and softly kissing her lips again, smirking when he pulls away. Her legs are spread even further. He chuckles a little. "Not here."

Her eyes dart to the poolhouse, smile turning into a smirk. "I have it all to myself."

"No."

Marissa grabs his arms and makes sure he's steadily lying on her, him between her legs, on her chest. She holds him really close to her as she turns them away from the pool and moves so she's on top. It doesn't go without difficulty, and she sort scrapes her knee a little as he swears that there's a rock under his back. But they get there, and she's sitting on top of him.

"What now?"

She leans down and kisses him so hard, he tries to sit up, wanting to return it. But she doesn't let him, sitting on his thighs, her hands on his shoulders holding him still. His lips move against hers in complete synchrony, just as they always have. These kisses are so much different than the ones almost a year ago. When she would only kiss him with her lips. She's using her mouth now and all he can think is that this is his girl kissing him and she's here. Really, anything she wants him to do to get her to stay, he'll do it. She pulls away slowly and moves her thumb across her lower lip, dark eyes looking down at him, and he's seriously starting to rethink the poolhouse idea when she pulls away and gives him her hand to sit up.

Ryan gives her a puzzled look and she smiles before turning toward the pool, saying low, "I hear footsteps."

.fin.


End file.
